


Listen To The Music

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, SPN REverse Bang, Slice of Life, Weechesters, art by Kamidiox, brothers being brothers, genfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: Slice of life brother scenes inspired by the Weechester art prompt: Dean shares his favorite music with Sam.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 30
Kudos: 70
Collections: 2020 Supernatural Reversebang Challenge





	Listen To The Music

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you first and foremost to the talented artist, [Kamidiox](http://twitter.com/Kamidiox/), for her wonderful prompt! I absolutely love Weechesters with all my heart, and was so fortunate to claim her art for this SPN ReverseBang challenge!
> 
> Secondly much thanks to my betas, [Milana](http://twitter.com/Theatregirl7299/) and [Judi](http://twitter.com/Jerzcaligrl/), for graciously accepting my last minute request. Any mistakes remain my own, because I tend to fiddle after the fact. And to the gals in FFF who encouraged me to participate, thank you all, loves - I miss you!
> 
> And finally, thanks to the mod of the challenge! This is my first time in this challenge, and I found it fun and exciting - and challenging for me with my super procrastination skills.
> 
> Fic title from The Doobie Brothers, [Listen to the Music.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkytJLoxGmQ)

**February 1984**

Dean stirred from a light sleep as the Impala hit a deep pothole, rousing to his father swearing lightly, tired green eyes sleepily meeting his dad’s in the rearview mirror as John instinctively checked the backseat.

“Sorry, Dean. You boys okay back there?” John spoke softly, keeping his natural rough timbre down.

Dean glanced over to check on baby Sammy, who should have been sleeping but was not, small hazel eyes wide open as he stared out the passenger window from what passed as a car seat. As Dean’s senses fully woke and engaged, he could hear and feel the thrumming beat of drums and rocking guitars. The music wasn’t as loud as usual, but still, it was night time. Bed time. Why weren’t they stopping to sleep?

“Yeah. Sammy’s awake, Dad.” Dean spoke gently, not wanting to disrupt his brother.

Sam didn’t make a fuss, just kept looking out as Dean imagined he was fascinated by the twinkling stars they sped under on this clear, cold night. But he _should_ have been sleeping. Babies needed sleep. Dean adjusted the soft cotton blankets over his little brother snugly, patting his leg before turning back to his dad.

He waited a moment, rubbing his eyes and yawning before clumsily climbing over into the front seat. Before John could admonish him, Dean held up a finger to his mouth before he whispered.

“Shhh, Dad. Sammy needs sleep.” Dean reached out to turn the volume on the tape deck down a few notches before he sat back, wiggling fully onto the seat.

“Dean...” John was drained, but they were making excellent time heading into Nebraska. He had a strong lead from Missouri, and figured they could reach Lincoln by morning light. They’d gassed up after dinner; he’d had an extra-large coffee and a few caffeinated sodas since then. He’d passed up getting a motel in favor of saving cash, knowing his sons would knock out once they were on the road.

“Too loud, dad.” Dean fretted, twisting his hands in his lap. He was still drowsy but able to give John that look, the one that said he’d argue on this issue. John had already learned in the last few months, that when it came to Sam, Dean had become stubborn and protective as hell.

“Shotgun picks the music, Dean.” He tried for a teasing tone, ruffling Dean’s hair. Glancing over at his oldest, he saw it didn’t really come across, not missing the way Dean kept trying to check over his shoulder on his little brother, likely worried Sammy would start crying. “But you’re right. You and Sammy both need rest. You climb back over and lay down, and I’ll find something a little less lively, okay?”

Dean nodded in agreement but waited until John popped the tape out and searched for a stable radio signal, settling on some soft rock from the 70’s and keeping the volume low. When Dean was satisfied, he clambered back to the pile of pillows and blankets on the backseat. He sat up and watched over Sammy until tiny eyes started to flutter shut, then burrowed down into his own makeshift bed, letting the strains of lighter melodic songs lull him to sleep.

**September 1987**

“Hey Dean, found you something.” John walked out of the house they’d been squatting in for the past week with the weapons bag, after making a final sweep from room to room to erase any trace the Winchesters had been there.

Dean had just gotten Sam buckled into the booster seat they’d found at a garage sale, and turned around, smile on his face. He loved being on the road, plus he was more than happy to ditch the history essay he was supposed to turn in two days from now. “What’s that, Dad?”

John tossed a small yellow object towards Dean. “Looks like someone left behind a usable Walkman. It’s a little beat up, but should be fine. Figure we can pick up a new pair of headphones before we head out of town.”

Dean’s smile grew brighter. A Walkman? And he could listen to music on his own? Hell yeah! “Sounds great, Dad, thanks!” He could hardly wait to find and own Bon Jovi’s last album, _Slippery When Wet_.

As they drove through Main Street to head out of town, John parked in front of a diner, noting a Radio Shack and a thrift store on the opposite side.

“Dean, I’m going to take Sam in and get breakfast. Pick yourself up some headphones, and see if the thrift store has any cassettes you’d like that I don’t already have.” John handed Dean a $20, feeling good about his haul after hustling at cards a few nights before he’d finished his latest hunt. Dean had been instrumental on this one, coming through on the research and having all the weapons clean, sharpened, primed and ready. He deserved something for himself.

Dean smiled before turning and rolling his eyes. He was so not getting Dad’s music. Bon Jovi was his, heck maybe even Duran Duran, and not that he’d tell a soul, but Debbie Gibson, too. All dependent on how much the headphones cost.

Taking off, he jogged over to the Radio Shack. He got new batteries for the Walkman, confirmed it was in working condition, and found a cheap pair of foam headphones, which used up about half his cash. They didn’t sell cassettes though, so he headed next door to the thrift shop to try his luck.

Sadly, the cassettes there were hardly better than his dad’s. Mostly rock from the 60’s. Although he did pick up a still decent looking Beatles cassette, since it had his mom’s favorite song on it, _Hey Jude_.

Walking back across the street to the diner, he spotted a music store on the end of the block. Chancing his dad wouldn’t give him too much grief about it, he slipped in. Just one Bon Jovi cassette, really, that’s all he wanted.

The front of the store was nothing but bins of new CDs. He strode to the back, hoping for a discount area, or that they still sold popular cassettes. Bingo! Broken out by genre, then alphabetically, he quickly found what he was looking for. And he had just enough left to purchase it, but now Dean was a literal kid in a candy store. He itched to have just a couple more. He weighed the risks, remembered his lessons. Gotta practice to become perfect, right?

Dean quickly checked out all four corners of the store, looking for security cameras. Even in a small town a store might have them, so he couldn’t think about it unless he was sure. The salesgirl up front was chewing gum and nodding her head along to the music playing in the store as she leafed through a Rolling Stone magazine. None of the cassettes had any anti-theft devices, and the front door didn’t have any measures in place.

He deftly slipped Europe’s _The Final Countdown_ and Debbie Gibson’s new _Out of the Blue_ cassettes into each coat pocket before strolling up to the register. Staying calm through the transaction, maintaining his still kid-like charm, he checked out and returned to the diner, sliding into the booth next to Sam.

Dean wolfed down the now somewhat cold breakfast waiting for him, his dad not saying a word but raising an eyebrow. Dean even nonchalantly dared to drink a fairly cooled cup of coffee, and that’s when John knew.

“Didn’t get caught, did you?” He finished his own coffee, then signaled to the waitress for the check.

“No Sir. I paid for two of them, though.” Dean shifted in his seat nervously, then moved to wipe a dribble of milk from Sam’s chin as his brother set his sippy cup down. “And I paid for the headphones. Oh, and batteries. There’s a dollar and change leftover.”

“Keep it. We’re gonna need to step up your training – social engineering.” John paid the check, credit card slip showing a flourished and fraudulent signature of one Thomas Price. “Wanna make sure you know all the ins and outs. Alright. Take care of Sam and meet me outside in ten.”

“Yes sir.” Dean took a few minutes with Sam in the restroom cleaning his sticky hands and face before they headed back to the car. “Sammy, I got something cool to show you, Buddy. After your nap, gonna let you see.”

“’K D’n.” Sam held onto Dean’s fingers and swung their hands as they walked through the diner back out to the car.

*****

A few hours on the road, and Dean was singing softly to _I’d Die for You_ , barely able to hear his dad’s own tunes blasting away with the headphones on. He was bopping his head along, his hands making motions to the music, his feet dancing along the floorboard.

Sam had been asleep, tucked against Dean’s side since shortly after breakfast but jostled awake to the pumping of Dean’s leg. Yawning, he watched Dean for a moment before confusion crossed his face. He tugged on Dean’s sleeve to get his attention, smiling when Dean removed the earphones from his head.

“What’s up, Sammy? You awake now?” Dean turned down the volume on the Walkman, eager to show Sammy what it was.

“Awake now. Thirsty.” Dean reached for his own soda, laughing when Sam turned his nose up. “You want juice?” He rummaged through the green cooler to find a Capri-Sun. Getting the straw in place, he handed it to Sam. “Wanna hear some music, Sammy?”

“Tinkle tinkle lil star, Dean?” Sam sucked on the juice pouch, waving to his dad as John checked on them.

“No, Sammy, not _Twinkle Twinkle_ _Little Star_ , this is more fun. Here, listen.” Dean rewound his tape, switched Bon Jovi for Europe, made sure the volume wouldn’t hurt Sam’s ears, and tried to place the headphones over his head.

Sam kept turning his head, not wanting them on as Dean struggled.

“Sammy c’mon. You’ll like this.” Dean looked his little brother in the eye as Sam sucked the last of the juice in one sip.

“Pwomise?” Sam turned from Dean to see his dad chuckling at their antics.

“I _promise_ , kiddo. Here, let me get it set up, okay? Let me put them on, then I’ll turn on the music.” Dean readied the track for _On the Loose_ , adjusted the headphones over Sam’s ears, and pressed play.

In seconds, Sam’s face was alight with joy. He held the Walkman in his hands gently as Dean watched on, grinning at Sam kicking his little legs out to the music, trying to move his head like he’d seen Dean do.

The toy cars and Legos spread out on the floorboard were forgotten as Sam happily listened to the entire first side of the cassette. When it was done, he pouted a bit until Dean flipped it over. There was more! After about forty minutes of watching Sam wiggle around to the music, Dean pulled out another cassette. The boys sat closely, both laying down with feet on opposite sides on the window of the car, their faces touching, so they could each have an ear in the headphones.

John had to laugh, watching them. When they pulled over for a quick lunch, he mentally made a note to get Sam his own Walkman, because while they were having fun now, he could totally see his boys escalating a fight over who got to listen on their own later.

**June 1992**

Sam worked on his math homework while humming along to R.E.M.’s _Shiny Happy People_ , tapping his pencil against his notebook as he solved complex fraction problems. He still had the old yellow Walkman; Dean had upgraded to a newer model once he’d won his first pool game against their dad.

Sam was more than content to wait in the car for them to come back from their hunt recon. He’d already done the investigation into the lore and victim profiles, so he was free from any more required input. Which meant he could knock out math and likely his English reading before they headed back to the motel to clean up and get dinner. He knew he wouldn’t be turning in his assignments – they’d blow town by morning, but it was important to him to keep on track with his studies; he actually enjoyed it.

Once he finished math, he swapped tapes out before reaching for his book. Nothing like a little Pearl Jam to go along with Madeleine L’Engle’s _A Wrinkle in Time_. He pondered his own tape collection against Dean’s. Sam’s wasn’t near as big, but he had grown with varying types of music as he’d gotten older. Dean had gone from loving the pop rock of the mid 80s to having memorized every song in their dad’s tape collection, seemingly overnight. He swore by Led Zeppelin and would rarely admit to those times when he and Sam had belted out Bon Jovi together just a couple of years ago.

Sam smiled as he remembered a dinner just a few weeks ago: they’d found a country style buffet in the little town they’d been in, and had stayed a few hours, packing away as much as they could eat until John was sure they’d get kicked out. Dean had tried every single dish while Sam stayed safe with baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and a salad.

Dean had lamented over his little brother’s taste, from food to clothes to music. Typical big brother haranguing, but Sam couldn’t keep quiet about how they’d gone separate ways on their music choices. He teased Dean for his shared love of mullet rock with their dad, mocking their offkey singing. He mentioned wanting to trade in the beloved Walkman for a new portable CD player, and Dean had scoffed.

“What’s wrong with our tapes, Sammy? You gotta go and get all fancy on us?” Dean had shoveled more pie from the dessert bar into his mouth as Sam simply shook his head, knowing it was a lost argument. Sam had somehow gravitated to a love of '90s grunge and more alternative rock, much to Dean’s dismay and John’s chagrin. He’d also embraced new technology – not just in music, but had taken a keen interest in computers as well.

“It’s not fancy, Dean. It’s a better way to listen to music – you know, if you or Dad updated the stereo in the Impala –“ and there Sam stopped speaking as two sets of eyes looked at him like he’d recommended some kind of pagan ritual. Ironic, given what they did from town to town.

As soon as they hit the next spot on the map of their lives, though, Sam was buying that CD player. He’d been looking into different models, knew CDs would last longer and perform better than worn out tapes. And he’d stashed a little money away in his duffle’s secret compartment specifically for it. When his dad and Dean inevitably asked him where he’d gotten the money, he could smugly tell them he’d conned the kids at the last school during secret lunch period games of three card monte. He hated hustling, but it was part of their ad-hoc training as hunters, so he’d practiced until he was damn near perfect. That oughta win him some brownie points with his family, anyway.

**December 2005**

After leaving the nightmare of flying and the hunt near Allentown behind, Dean took a long, winding route through Pennsylvania towards Ohio. They didn’t have anywhere to be, and Sam was still upset about their dad’s cell service apparently working again, yet John remained incommunicado.

Truth be told, Dean was upset as well. At least they knew he was okay, even if he was disturbingly out of reach. Unfortunately for Sam, when Dean was anxious, he tended to turn Baby’s stereo volume all the way up and crank through all his worn cassettes. He knew it irritated his little brother and that was just a regrettable coincidence. Loud, reverberating music and the open road were the balm he needed, with Sammy by his side.

Dean recalled the times before Stanford, when Sam would roll his eyes and try to ignore Dean and John while plopping his headphones on and tuning them out. However, Sam had lost everything in the fire that took Jessica. There was no escape for him from the current refrain of _Travelling Riverside Blues_. Dean contemplated on that, biting his lower lip as he glanced over to see Sam sullenly staring out at the passing countryside.

Sam should have something to call his own again, shouldn’t he? Hell, even the clothes he wore now were thrift store finds – someone else’s discards. They hadn’t really done a major shopping spree for supplies, much less clothes, since they’d been on the road again. And it’d been over a month since Sam had been riding shotgun.

Mind made up, he set a mental route to head towards Cleveland via Interstate 80. Maybe they could take a couple days to relax and fish on Lake Erie. Plus, Dean figured he could sneak in a visit to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

*****

Hours into driving, Dean was looking to stretch his legs. And if he was feeling that, he knew Sam would be too, the sasquatch. He started seeing signs for Cuyahoga Falls and noticed Sam was fidgeting.

“Was gonna stop in Cleveland, but this isn’t too far out. Wanna stop here, get some grub, set up a couple days?” Turning down the music, he motioned to the signs, glancing over and seeing Sam’s shoulders relax. His little brother was keyed up, he needed a distraction.

“Yeah. Yeah, Dean, that sounds good.”

“Ok. Thinking we could do a big supply run too, set you up right. Sound good?”

“Sure, yeah...” Sam paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Do you think maybe you could go without me? I think I might head to the National Park, take a short hike, clear my head. There’s some awesome waterfalls in Cuyahoga.”

Not exactly the plan Dean had in mind, but hey, it worked. Sam needed downtime and Dean needed to get Sam outfitted properly. Plus, the more he thought about it, he wanted to get Sam something special, just an olive branch of sorts. To bridge the gap that distance and absence had carved.

“You got it, Sammy.”

*****

After dropping Sam off at the park’s welcome center (and insisting on getting him to carry a gun and a knife, damn the laws), Dean headed to the nearest Costco. Using their latest credit card, he planned on maxing it out, thanks to one Justin Edwards.

Dean grabbed a cart and quickly loaded up on salt, beer, and travel-safe snacks. He threw several flashlights and battery assortments into the cart. Not forgetting lighter fluid and lighters, he tried to think what would be a non-red-flag amount to purchase. And decided not to add rope, just to be safe.

Finishing with their standard supplies, he pushed the full cart to the clothes section. He selected several pairs of jeans and long sleeved shirts, throwing in packages of socks, undershirts, and underwear. He scooped up heavy workman’s boots for the both of them, adding a couple hoodies and random T-shirts, plus both a lightweight and heavyweight jacket. Figuring that would take care of Sam for now, he moved on to picking out a large duffel bag for Sam to store his new wardrobe.

Meandering around towards the front, he made a stop in the personal care area to pick up a value-sized package of bar soap, then added shampoo and conditioner, and a value pack of toothbrushes, along with a two-box set of toothpaste. Nothing like being truly clean after a messy hunt, he mused. Sometimes the cheap (and small) freebies if motels did offer didn’t quite do the trick.

As he pushed the heavy cart towards the registers, he realized he was missing the special something he wanted to get Sam. He veered the cart around to electronics, nearly losing the clothes piled on top, as he made his way to look at music players.

*****

Whistling as he loaded everything into Baby’s spacious trunk, he tucked the music player into his pocket. He wanted to give that to Sam right away. He’d been looking for the CD type player he’d last seen Sam have, but had gotten talked into a 4GB black and white iPod Nano. The kid at the counter had told him it was really easy to use, and Dean figured his nerdy tech brother would understand how it worked. He had added a gift card for iTunes, figuring Sam would be able to listen to the podcasts he tried to keep up with on his laptop.

*****

“Walk do you good?” Dean had picked Sam up just a few hours after he’d dropped him off. His brother was a sweaty mess even in the cold, biting air outside, and had a healthy flushed tone to his skin.

“Yeah, think so. Needed that, thanks.” Sam wasn’t truly out of breath, but felt a good kind of winded after hours of hiking through the forest to see Brandywine Falls.

“Got us supplies, got you outfitted, everything’s unloaded back at the motel. New duds, the works.” Dean grinned, some of the T-shirts he’d picked up were nonsensical, he couldn’t wait to see the bitchface he’d get about a few of them.

“Thanks, man. Really, I appreciate it.” Feeling like all he wanted was a hot shower and a good dinner, Sam knew he’d sleep well tonight.

“Picked up one more thing, Sammy. Here.” Dean plucked the iPod out of his pocket and handed it over.

“Dean, no way! You got me the Nano?!” Sam’s face was bright with joy, and Dean was relieved to see Sam's huge grin, complete with dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Yep. And a gift card. You know, for your podcast things – Supernatural and Media Royalty?”

“Dude. _Paranormal Podcast_ and _Media Monarchy_.”

“And for your own music. You know. Because-“

“Yeah, Dean. I know. Driver picks the music.”

“And shotgun shuts his cakehole.”


End file.
